Trust Me
by lifeisntamusical
Summary: After all, they always trusted each other. They were two peas in a pod, stuck together like glue, and nothing could ever tear them apart.


There was something terrifying about jumping off a ledge, or rather, about being on anything that constituted being called a ledge.

Most would say it was as fear of heights, but Mabel would call it common sense.

It made no difference that the ledge was only six feet above clear water, or that her parents were waiting with arms outstretched, nor did it matter that her brother had already taken the plunge and was now encouraging her like their parents. To an eight year old, it felt like he was trying to lure her to her death.

She hovered at the edge for a minute longer, staring at the water and biting her lip. Her gaze flickered between her family members, and she sighed, stepping back. She didn't miss their looks of disappointment, but those quickly changed into encouragement.

She turned, halfway across the rock when a voice makes her pause.

"Mabel, it's fun! Seriously, it's not scary at all!"

She hesitantly stepped back to see her brother with a wide grin on his face. If he said it's not scary, it must be true. He was typically the type to need a push, if not an all out shove, and she was more the type to give him that. If he honestly said it wasn't bad, then...

"Come on, trust me!"

That was enough for her; she jumped before she can tell herself not to and came up sputtering for air, a laugh breaking through her gasps. When her breathing calmed, she climbed up the rock again, pulling her brother up behind her.

* * *

He was beginning to wish he pretended to be sick. Heck, the way he was feeling, he was likely to puke anyway. At least he could've puked at home instead of in front of three judges.

He stood on his toes, scanning the auditorium for the judges. His eyes landed on them, and when he realized they were only three tables away, his heart rate quickened.

All fourth graders were required to enter the science fair, and most people had just done something really rushed and, if Dipper was being honest, completely unscientific. Not Dipper, though-he had spent time planning his out, right down to the decoration of his science board. The project was simple enough, a test to see what the best way to store popcorn was, but he had put so much attention into it that he felt like he might explode if it wasn't liked.

The judges moved a table closer, and he must've let out a whimper or something, because his sister called his name from the table after his. He turned, rubbing his arm with increasing pressure.

"Bro, what's wrong? You look like you're gonna puke." She smiled, but quickly stopped upon seeing Dipper's face. "Wait, you aren't gonna puke, right?"

Her table was a mess of glitter and gel pens, and the colors were beginning to hurt his head. He forced himself to focus on his sister before giving her a shrug and a chuckle, both so strained that it revealed his answer.

"Ah, come on! You've got a better project than anyone here. Except me, but don't worry, I'll let you get second." She giggled, and his eyes turned to the judges, who wrote now at the table before him. "Hey, Dip?"

He could barely breathe, much less respond, so he only glanced at her.

"You're gonna do great, trust me."

He let out a breath and nodded, giving her a grateful smile. And sure enough, he ended up winning.

* * *

Middle school was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be a sign of growing up, of moving on to bigger and better things. After all, high school was in only four years, and they were practically teenagers.

Yes, middle school was supposed to be ten times better than elementary school in every single way. Mabel was supposed to be making new friends and having fun, not finding notes on her locker.

However, that was exactly what she was doing. And these weren't friendly notes, either, like she'd been expecting the first time she found one. No, they were downright cruel, and while she told herself not to worry, she couldn't resist keeping them. Every so often, she would look through them, searching for any clue as to who was sending them, and why.

Of course she didn't tell anyone. She wasn't a snitch, and besides, who was she going to tell on? She didn't know who the culprit was.

She hadn't even been planning on telling her brother, and they told each other everything. He wouldn't have found out at all had she not dropped her folder, and along with it, every note she'd received that year.

"What are these?" He picked up the papers, looking through them while Mabel stared at him in clear discomfort. As he read, he narrowed his eyes, until he finally threw the papers aside altogether. "They spelled 'idiot' wrong. Multiple times, who does that?"

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze as she gathered the notes up and stuck them back in her folder. After finishing that, she started to stand, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, seriously-they're just jealous. Trust me."

She didn't end up making many friends that year, but the notes faded eventually. Besides, she already had the best friend she could ask for.

* * *

It would be pretty nice if Dipper had an identical twin, one he could switch places with whenever he needed some help in a class. After all, there was nothing wrong with switching places on difficult tests. Especially if those tests were art ones.

That was really stupid, in his opinion. Why would you test somebody in art? Not everyone could be Leonardo da Vinci, after all! He couldn't even pass for a Picasso, and that guy wasn't exactly an artistic genius. No one cared about that, though. He had to take the final, and without a twin to switch with, he was going to fail.

He couldn't exactly study for art, so he settled with relaxing, as much as he could with ten pounds of stress, anyway. And the next morning, he entered the art room, waving to his sister with a wince.

Lucky her, she was going to History class. He could do history. In fact, if it was possible to take two history classes to make up for his one art class, he would've done so in a second. If just a couple small details changed in his world, Dipper's life would be a thousand times easier.

Positive thinking was, allegedly, the best way to achieve things, so Dipper did his best to follow through. Of course, it didn't work. He didn't even know what he was supposed to do on nine out of ten of the parts, and the one other part involved writing his name and the date.

He finished that class with a sinking heart and a feeling that he would be retaking that class the next year. And when Mabel came up to him with an encouraging grin, he only had to look up for her to give a sympathetic nod and pull him into a hug.

"It'll work out. Trust me."

He was retaking the class, it turned out, and his GPA was ruined. It didn't seem that horrible, though, especially not when his twin opted to retake it, as well.

* * *

She watches the reunion, a sigh falling past her lips. She was right to trust him. Seeing them reminds her of her own brother, and she turns to give him a smile, an affirmation, but his stonwas y look stops her. The positivity fades from her expression, and her brows furrow as she opens her mouth.

She has no idea what she's going to say, all plans she had shrinking from the hard glint in his eyes. He's given this look to so many people, often on her behalf, and it's a rare and undesired occurrence when she's on the receiving end. She closes her mouth to gather her thoughts, then opens it again, certain she's developed a bandage for this wound.

Before she can speak, he turns, walking away with a stiffness they'd both become so accustomed to. For a moment, she stands there, watching him leave before taking off herself. Her first instinct is to run to their room, but she enters to an emptiness that hits her hard enough to bring her stumbling to her bed.

Meanwhile, he runs through the trees, the roots and rocks only burning more of his emotions off. When he considers himself hidden well enough, he sits against a tree, breathing labored.

He was an idiot. The book told him, and he didn't listen. It didn't matter that the world hadn't ended(in any case, it still could-they weren't off the hook yet). No, what mattered was his sister, his other half, pushing him aside for a person they'd met not a season before. The books spelled it out: trust no one. He had been a liar to himself by pretending she didn't count. He was wrong to trust her.

One leans against a wall, swiping at tears welling up in her eyes. The other leans against a tree, letting angry drops of water fall down his cheeks and into his lap. She stares across the room at an empty bed, while his empty gaze is fixed on a spot between the trees. She tells herself not to cry. He tells himself not to care.

Then two voices pierce the air, heard only by the sources. One is loud, one a whisper, both despite the lack of listening ears, one choking back a sob and the other cracking midway through.

"Why can't you just trust me?"


End file.
